Unspoken
by Sailor Raspberry
Summary: Zane's the laid back, calm, and collected one. But when he meets a shy, pretty girl named Amy, he discovers something that he's never dealt with before.


Another little fic I wrote awhile go, dealing with that high school setting. I want to know something, which Amy do you guys like better? The one you're about to read, or the one from **You Scrimmage Me**?

Anyway, enjoy the story, ignore any of the silly mistakes, and review because I really want to know what you all think!

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The sun sat high above them, warming the crowns of their heads and shading their cheeks to a pleasant pink. A bee buzzed past, drawing a squeal of displeasure from a group of girls nearby.

Zane genuinely enjoyed spring. He found it to be exhilarating; always bringing a new experience every time it came around. It held the promise of new life, new adventures, new beginnings. It held the secrets of the unknown, and it intrigued the inner depths of his mind.

They all settled beneath a tree, legs sprawled out and lunches dumped onto the ground. He watched as the leaves created diamonds of light across the grass and diagonally across the leg of his trousers. A butterfly fluttered restlessly above his head

Across from him, Serena and Mina rolled onto their stomachs, examining each other's lunch. He took a bite of his peanut-butter and banana sandwich, watching the two girls trade desserts.

"What?" Serena peeled open the wrapper and bit into the brownie. "This beats a Twinkie any day."

Mina shook her head, tearing off a piece. Through a mouth full of cream-filled cake, she mumbled, "Twinkies are way better than my mom's homemade crap. Plus, they're only, like, two dollars a box."

Zane shook his head and unscrewed the cap from his water bottle. Nathan snuck a chip from Lita's bag when she looked away. Her head swung back. "Did you just eat one of my potato chips?"

"No."

Jake collapsed next to Raye, arms folded behind his head. She looked over at him, curious. He shrugged and reached over to tuck a sliver of hair behind her ear.

Darien poised his wire-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose, opening a textbook. Kennedy rolled his eyes. "You've been studying since homeroom. I think you understand the basics of biology by now."

He pulled the glasses down and glared. "Finals are coming up. I can't risk failing."

Kennedy laughed and popped a grape into his mouth. "When was the last time you failed at anything?"

He mumbled something about reading comprehension in third grade.

Zane ignored the two of them as they argued, eyes wandering around the rest of the campus. He admired the rose bushes, peered up into the sky, watching a plane float by. And then his gaze roamed over to the lunch tables. What he saw nearly made his heart stop.

"Hey, Nathan," he grabbed his sleeve. "Who's that girl?"

Nathan turned away from Lita, following Zane's gaze. "Oh. That's Amy."

He nodded, blinking a few times, checking to assure himself that she was real. Raye was saying something to him, but the words didn't register. "I'm going to go talk to her." He stood, brushed off his pants, and made his was forward.

Raye was propped up on her knees now. "Zane! You don't understand!"

But he was already too far away to hear her.

Her head was bowed; pencil scribbling across a notebook, an array of textbooks and folders occupying the table. Even as he approached, she did not recognize his presence.

Zane slid across from her, careful not to touch anything. She was biting her lip in concentration, eyebrows drawn together, eyes flicking over the page. He could feel the beat of his heart in the tips of his fingers as he propped an elbow on the edge of the table. "Hi there."

She jumped; face contorted and surprised as her eyes darted around. But then she noticed him, and her shoulders relaxed. Her hand moved in what looked like a wave.

Zane brought his hands down onto his lap, watching as she fiddled with the pencil. Her cheeks were red, hair covering her face. "I'm Zane."

She nodded, smiling softly, folding her notebook closed. He waited a moment for her to respond.

When she didn't, he tried again, "What's your name?"

Amy peeked up through her eyelashes, pushing a stray curl of hair behind her ear. She tapped her throat.

He blinked, confused. "Are you thirsty?"

She shook her head, head lolling to the side, lips parted as if she were laughing. Reaching across the table, she pulled a folder over and retrieved a sheet of paper. Grabbing her pencil, she scribbled something across the first line and slid it over to him.

At first, he thought she was playing some kind of game. And so, with a quick smile, he took a second to admire the arcs and swirls of her cursive.

Then, the words registered within his mind.

_I can't speak._

Zane looked up at her, and then back down at the paper. She was smiling at him, motioning for the paper again. He handed it back.

A breeze blew by, picking up the short curls of her hair. His heart skipped a beat.

Her fingers brushed his as she returned the paper. She was soft and gentle.

_I'm Amy. Are those your friends?_

He looked over at the tree, eyebrows raised at the sight of all eight of them watching, mouths agape. His face heated with embarrassment.

"Yeah. Sorry."

Her face scrunched together, little nose crinkling. She was laughing, grabbing the paper and writing furiously.

Zane suddenly felt awkward, fingers tapping against the seat of the bench. Amy peered up at him, cheeks pink.

A sudden burst of wind carried the paper off into the distance, and they both watched it dance across the ground. The first bell rang.

Amy shook her head, standing and smoothing her pleated skirt. Her tiny hands began gathering everything together.

Zane also stood, reaching over to help place her binders into a carry bag. Their arms brushed. Amy paused and glanced over at him, catching his gaze. She stood upright, stiffening as she watched his pupils dilate, clouds running over the sun.

Zane was the first to break the contact, tucking a pencil into its case. "So," he handed it to her, watching with amusement as she rushed to finish packing. "Do you think we could exchange numbers?"

Her smile was small, a slight tweaking of the lips that he nearly missed. Again, she tapped the pale skin of her neck, shaking her head.

Mentally, he punched himself in the face. But the humiliation disintegrated as she patted his curled fist. And then, with one last fleeting smile, she pulled her bag over her shoulder and began walking away.

Zane allowed his eyes to follow her into the building, until she disappeared into the dark corridor. Only then did he let himself slump against the edge of the table. The warning bell sounded, drawing a shallow exhale of breath. A shadow filtered across his legs, and he glanced up, watching as Raye approached him.

She stopped in front of him, arms crossed. "Did you make a complete fool of yourself?"

He shrugged, kicking the ground with the toe of his shoe. "I asked for her number."

"And how did that work out?

Zane rolled his eyes and moved around her, grumbling. But Raye's voice stopped him.

"I think she forgot her notebook."

His steps faltered, shoulders stiffened, body rotating back around to watch Raye stride toward him. She was smiling.

The third bell forced them to pick up a quick pace, shoulder to shoulder as they made their way inside. The sun disappeared, leaving them blind-eyed in the shady hallway. Zane's eyes peered over at the notebook. "You know," he said, turning to his locker and dialing in quickly, "I could return it to her."

Raye relaxed against the locker next to his, notebook tucked beneath her arm. "No, that's alright. I have seventh period chemistry with her."

Zane pursed his lips as he withdrew a geometry binder. "Don't worry about it. I plan on seeing her tomorrow anyway."

She smirked, fingering the spiral binding. "Are you sure? I mean, it would be easier for her if I returned it..."

"No, no, I'll do it," he snatched it before she could object, slamming his locker closed. "Like I said, don't worry about it."

Raye shrugged, pushing away. "Alright, fine. And if the teachers wonder why you're so late, tell them you got your tie tangled, and that I had to help you get it undone."

He nodded, gripping the notebook until his knuckles turned white. Then, with a sigh, he turned and started his way to geometry class.

-

By the time eighth period rolled around, he found himself wandering over to the library, Amy's notebook tucked protectively beneath the crook of his arm.

The librarian peered at him over her green rhinestone-studded glasses, one carefully crafted eyebrow arching upwards. Zane flashed the flimsy paper of his hall pass, and she sniffed, lowering her gaze back down.

He meandered over to the bookshelves, searching lazily for a good read. He went shelf by shelf, row by row, until he came across a book, snuggled tightly between a historical novel and some cheesy romance story.

Sign Language for Dummies.

His lips quirked as he removed it from the shelf, flipping through the pages, enthralled by it all. Suddenly, he could imagine himself communicating through sign language, sharing unknown secrets with a certain dark haired, bright eyed girl.

Placing the book beneath the rest of his binders, he emerged from between the shelves.

And then he saw her.

She was sitting at a table near the other side of the room, nestled amid a trophy case and a row of computers, teeth nibbling the end of a pencil. He reached for the notebook, grasping the soft cover between nervous, sweaty fingers.

Amy crossed, and then uncrossed, her ankles. The pages before her weren't really registering in her mind, which frustrated her greatly. There were so many things she could be doing; homework, projects, studying, and yet, she found herself daydreaming, thoughts traveling back to fifth period lunch.

Irritated, she dropped her pencil and sat back, face pulled into a livid scowl. Her eyes skittered to a stop, lids fluttering a few times.

Zane felt his face redden as he caught her gaze, taking a small step forward. Amy moved slightly, standing up, but then, slowly, lowering herself back down. She did this two more times before he decided, with a rueful shake of the head, that he should go over to her.

She determined herself to meet him half-way, and so, smoothing a few eraser shavings from her skirt, she stepped away from the table and took small, uncertain steps.

He hesitated, watching her moving towards him, and he couldn't help the sudden realization of her femininity. Soft curves and a subtle flaring of the hips, high cheekbones and a cute, pointed chin. His heart tumbled slightly.

She stopped before him, a sweet smile revealing the slight indent of dimples. Her hands linked behind her back, emphasizing an elegant collar bone beneath the fabric of her school uniform. Then, she caught a glimpse of her notebook, and her lips parted in a silent gasp.

Zane remembered that he was supposed to return the notebook, and so, with a small shrug of the shoulder, he handed it to her. She inhaled deeply, hand fluttering over her chest, mouth forming a thank you.

"It was no big deal."

She shook her head, cheeks burning crimson as she gripped his wrist, leading him back to the table. Motioning him to sit down, she slid back into her chair, quickly removing a clean piece of paper. But Zane stopped her with a gentle touch to the forearm, pulling out the book he had recently discovered.

Her surprise was evident, dashing across her face in sharp intervals before it subsided into admiration. She pointed to the book, nodding as he did, and inhaled a shaky breath.

Zane had never seen someone perform sign language before, thus, watching as her fingers formed graceful, refined symbols, he became entranced, caught up between searching for what she was saying, hoping to translate it correctly back to her, and wanting to watch her face light up every time he comprehended her unspoken words.

Forty-five minutes came and passed, and as the final bell rang, Zane thought he saw what appeared to be sorrow flit across her face, but it was quickly replaced with a beaming smile.

_Thank you._

Zane smiled, gathering together his things. "No problem. It was fun, actually." He waited until she had herself organized, books balanced carefully on the curve of her hip.

She lowered her head as he kept a slow pace beside her, one tiny hand pushing a loose strand of hair away from her face.

The hallways were emptying quickly, students pouring around them in ruffling skirts and flapping ties. But Zane didn't really notice them, because, as they stepped through the school's entrance and the sun blinded them, he realized that he didn't want to leave.

Kennedy was waiting for him over on a bench, face shadowed and eyes sharp, trying impatiently to control his temper. He did not like when people were late.

Zane rolled his eyes, turning back to Amy. She did not smile, only met his stare with a small tilt of the head. She wanted to say something, he could tell by the way her face pinched and tightened, and it broke his heart.

"Amy, I could walk you home, if you'd like."

She shook her head fiercely, flipping a hand over towards Kennedy.

"That's okay, really. I'd like to."

Amy shook her head again, stepping down the first step. She smiled, barely, and he wondered if it was one at all. Or if it was merely a figment of his imagination.

She left him standing there, feet carting her down the steps so swiftly, he thought she was carried by wings. When she reached the bottom, she tossed him once final glance, and Zane found his heart beating intensely; loud, shuddering thumps within the shell of his ear.

And then she was gone, walked through the iron wrought gate, down a sidewalk and into the world beyond.

Somehow, he wished she had the ability to talk. Wished he could hear what her voice would have sounded like. As he walked down the steps, dazed, he allowed his thoughts to wander, crafting up imaginary voices that may have been hers.

But, as he shook his head to clear his muddled feelings, he found that none of them suited her.

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Review please!


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